Melbourne writer and artist Ella Baxter’s New Animal (published in March 2021) remains for me one of the standout debuts of recent years. A dark, beautiful satire and a new way of thinking about the body in grief, this book was incredibly refreshing in its originality (and very funny as well), and rightfully received much acclaim both here and internationally. Woo Woo is the author’s second novel and to my mind confirms Baxter as one of the most exciting Australian novelists to have emerged this decade: I think she’s the real deal.
Woo Woo is about Sabine, a visual artist whose important – possibly career-making – show is just about to open. She lives with her emotional support person and romantic partner, Constantine, a successful chef, who is often enrolled to help Sabine create her art-world persona, which needs constant online maintenance. Sabine is in a state of perpetual anxiety about her creative output, and the line between her artistic identity and her actual self has all but dissolved, and she’s taking counsel from the spiritual presence of the artist Carolee Schneemann. In the background, something more sinister lurks: Sabine has a stalker, and this shadowy figure, Rembrandt Man, who seems to be there always but just out of view, is feeding Sabine’s growing paranoia.
The Melbourne art scene provides a rich seam of material for Baxter’s critical but affectionate eye, and there are plenty of laugh-out-loud moments and character studies to enjoy/cringe about as Sabine careens towards opening night. But at its heart this is a book of serious ideas, about seeing and being watched, about craving authenticity in a world dominated by impression management, about performing the self online and the dissolution of privacy, and ultimately about the possibilities and limits of art in capitalism, where creative practice is commodified and commercial outcomes are the agreed measures of success, even those that hope to critique the whole damn thing. At this end of proceedings, how much of the self is too much to give, or is it already all too late to make anything real? How brave does an artist have to be?
I love that Woo Woo is and does all of this work while also being such a strong piece of writing, so committed to its form: this book is so well-written, you can give yourself over to the words, and engage fully with Baxter’s original thinking, and feel the feelings she is exploring. Woo Woo is an outstanding book, one we’ll remember from 2024.
